


a few minutes with 'detectives', as they call themselves

by sybris



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 21:31:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3744283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sybris/pseuds/sybris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Armin, I swear, you have the best and the worst sense of style out of all of us.”</em>
</p>
<p>  <em>Armin snorted at the comment. Looked his partner up and down with a sharp flick of the eyes. His lips curved into a smirk, pale pink and thin. Slightly chapped.</em></p>
<p>  <em>“Says the guy who came to work in his literal pyjamas.”</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Everyone agrees they shouldn't call themselves detectives. But they do, so everyone has to put up with it, they guessed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a few minutes with 'detectives', as they call themselves

It was a mess, to say the least.

A relatively quiet mess, sure, but a mess nonetheless.

“Armin, I swear, you have the best and the worst sense of style out of all of us.”

Armin snorted at the comment. Looked his partner up and down with a sharp flick of the eyes. His lips curved into a smirk, pale pink and thin. Slightly chapped.

“Says the guy who came to work in his literal pyjamas.”

His partner looked down and shrugged. He’d waltzed in the door in every sense of the word, a cup of coffee in one hand and a bulky folder tucked under his arm, clad in a plain black t-shirt that hugged his bulging biceps and simple sweatpants – ‘trackies,’ he called them. Further than those, covering his partner’s feet snug and comfortably, were a pair of goddamn bunny slippers. Pastel pink at that. But what really got him was the yellowing bruise covering his left eye and the cut on his lip that looked like it wouldn’t heal very easy. He had a scratch across his cheekbone, under his right eye, something that would definitely scar.

But he didn’t mention it.

His partner took the lid of his coffee cup off and turned it upside down, bringing it to his own admittedly plumper lips and licking the foam off of the inside with a flick of his tongue. The cup was simple, one of those ones cafés used, the name ‘Erin’ scrawled on it in quite pretty cursive. Armin coughed out a laugh, palm of his hand on the top of his desk, turning away and hiding his mouth in his fist. His partner looked up and furrowed his brow.

“What? Do I have foam on my face?”

Armin shook his head and waved off his question. He quickly regained himself and, still struggling a little bit, pointed a skinny little finger at the cup. His partner looked down, moving his index finger out of the way of the writing from where it had shifted to. His face coiled into a scowl as he read the letters.

“Okay, I have been going to that damn café for a _year_ now, and they still can’t get my name right? Jeez, it’s not that hard.”

His partner grumbled his way over to his own little desk, setting his cup down gingerly as he grabbed a Sharpie from his pen cup-holder and quickly wrote an ‘e’ where the ‘I’ was. The cup was still full, and it was a good mocha, so he really didn’t want to throw it away because of a little mistake that would still very much annoy him if it stayed.

Armin laughed. “I reckon they do it on purpose.”

His partner – Eren – glanced up at him. “Yeah, well, wouldn’t be the first time. Remember that girl at the coffee shop near campus who would always spell my name in the stupidest ways?”

Armin hummed, remembering the girl fondly. “Yeah, or she’d mess up your order.”

Eren looked like he had to physically refrain from slamming his hands down with a fair amount of force. He opted for merely pressing them down relatively calmly and pushing himself and his desk chair away at the memory. “Oh my god, she was a _bitch.”_

“So much so in fact you called her ‘Hissy Fit’.”

“Oh, yeah, her name was Historia or something, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Armin stared at the folder Eren had dumped unceremoniously on his desk. He pointed a pen at it, moving around his own desk to sit on his own desk chair. It squeaked under him. His fingers fiddled with his waist coat, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt as he pulled himself in. He picked up a pen on his desk and fiddled with that, blue eyes still locked on the folder.

“What’s that?” He asked, pointing the blunt end of his pen at it. Eren looked up at him, then at the pen, his eyes finally settling on the folder. He waved a hand and made a face.

“Oh, nothing, just our next case.”

Armin’s big blue eyes simply shined at that. His mouth twitched into a big, toothy grin. “Murder?” He asked, his voice more hopeful than it should’ve been.

Eren looked at him with eyes just as bright. “Better. Murder and rape.”

Armin threw his arms up into the air, throwing the pen into the giant tinted windows behind his desk. He kicked up his legs, the sole of his six dollar shoes from the local K-Mart pressed against the front of his dingy little desk, and pushed back slightly, desk chair spinning on its wheels. Eren laughed as he leant back in his chair, clutching his stomach in pain as he watched Armin rejoice.

“You two are way too happy about this.”

Their laughter and potential celebration stopped almost instantaneously at the cutting voice that chilled the room. They both turned to the door on their left, the door leading to their boss’s office, their boss being a man of fine established. His name was Levi, and he was **stunning.** His black hair was parted on the right and styled into an undercut that just wouldn’t do it for anyone but him. His eyes were the colour of steel, and Eren and Armin liked to joke that they had brainwashing powers; there wasn’t a soul in the world who couldn’t lie to them – apart from them two, but they worked with ( _for,_ Levi had to tell them continuously) the man, so of course they had some kind of immunity to his gaze. He was about as chiselled as a god, and he never failed to remind them of that fact, prancing around in dress shirts rolled up to just below the elbow and skinny jeans that were only a little too skinny.

So, yes, he was absolutely fucking **stunning.** And they all knew it.

“Well, Captain,” Eren began, gaining the man’s attention. He glanced at Armin. “We’ve been getting fairly… _easy_ cases lately.” He turned back to his boss and gave a little shrug. “We needed the challenge.”

Levi gave him a once over. His eyebrow raised at the slippers. “Eren.” He looked Eren straight in the eye, his own narrowed with suspicion. “Are you sleeping under your desk again?”

Eren squinted, his lips curving and his eyebrows furrowing into an offended expression. “What? No.” He looked down at his outfit again. “Can’t a guy just appreciate the damn comfort and aesthetic in bunny slippers?” He muttered, stretching his leg out and moving around his bunny slipper-clad foot.

“Not really.” Armin replied. Eren looked at him and frowned.

Levi snorted. He squinted at Eren’s face, however, apparently having forgotten his contacts. “The hell happened to you?” Eren brought a hand up to his face and shrugged. “Fell down some stairs. No biggie.”

Armin smirked and turned to Levi. “He got in a fight with Jean over the last cinnamon donut.”

Levi’s mouth formed an ‘o’. “That makes sense.”

They both laughed at Eren’s offended face and angry grumbles he thought they couldn’t hear. “Alright, enough chit-chat.” Levi walked over to Eren’s desk and scooped up the folder thrown onto the cheap plastic-y wood. He unlatched the elastic holding his closed and opened the flap, peeking in, his fingers fluttering through the pages. He snapped it shut and looked at the two other men in the room.

“We have a case.” He tucked the folder under his arm and clapped his hands. “So, let’s get to it.”


End file.
